Harry Potter and the Great Hunt
by The One that Hunts your Soul
Summary: Frustrated with his inability to find Harry Potter, Voldemort employs Ghost, a skilled hunter, to track him down. But when the ripples of his actions in his first rise to power return to haunt him, Voldemort may come to regret his choice. Rating may change
1. The Chaos That is War

Hey Ya'll, been along time. Its been hella crazy round here lately. I'm in Coast Guard and recently returned my home port. For those of who follow me, no Shaingan Warrior has not been abandoned, I just started working on this one night to get my imagination going and developed a complete story out of it in my head. This whole story really took shape in my mind while I was walking the the dark passage ways of my boat on security watch. So please in enjoy this new story

.Chapter One:

The Chaos That is War

The Dark lord Voldemort sat in his high backed chair regarding the man in front of him. He was a little under six feet, had a wiry muscular build that betrayed his freakish strength; he wore black dyed deer skin pants,and moccasins, a shirt was absent, instead he wore a fur clock made from the skin of some type of wolf by the looks of it. His bare torso was covered in scar and tattoos; a leather cord with a claw of some kind hanging off it, hung around his neck. On his back was a black quiver filled with arrows fletched with white feathers, and in his belt was a bone handled knife.

"Remove your hood," the Dark Lord said. Wordlessly the clocked man threw back his hood revealing jet black hair with a single lock of white in it and the most piercing, cold blue eye's he'd ever seen.

"You know why I summoned you?" asked Voldemort.

"A Hunt," came the man's response. The Dark Lord nodded.

"Indeed a hunt," he said "Your Greatest hunt and most dangerous pray. I need you to hunt down a young boy by the name of Harry Potter. He is a threat to all I have built and he must be eliminated to ensure the safety of my empire." The man raised his hand effectively cutting off the Lord of Darkness.

"You will show resp.." said a Deatheater to the hunter's left only to be cut off with said hunters knife buried in his stomach.

"Keep your reasoning," said the hunter as he jerked the blade from the mans gut. "I am not here for them or you, I live solely for the Hunt. If the boy does not provide me with the challenge I seek, I will kill you next." He knelt down and wiped his blade clean on the dead man's cloak before sheathing it. Voldemort watch him closely with hidden interest, the callousness and detachment to the living he'd shown when he'd killed his man was just what he'd hoped for.

"Very well hunter," he said "Now you must go, you must be quick, your quarry has a head start and the trail has gone cold." The young man turned to leave with a swish of his cloak.

"No trail is cold," he said pulling up his hood "If one only knows what to look for." As the Hunter left a evil grin crossed Voldemort's face, Harry Potter was as good as dead.

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Harry let out a sigh as he sat staring into the fire. They'd been out in these woods for two weeks now and were no closer to finding a Horcrux as when they had started. A rustling behind him caused him to turn with a start. There standing in the door of the tent was Hermione, she gave him a small smile and came to sit next to him.

"What are you doing up this late?" he asked wrapping an arm around her and pulling her against him.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied "Ron and Luna went to bed a little bit ago but I just can't sleep." Harry gave her an apologetic smile and turn back to the fire.

"You three should probably leave," he said "I don't know what I'm doing out here, You guys should leave before something bad happens." Hermione opened her mouth to say something.

"Like that's ever gonna happen," came a masculine voice behind him. He turned to see Ron and Luna standing in the door of the tent now, Ron's arm draped across Luna shoulders.

"We're not going to abandon our friend in his darkest hour," said Luna in her dreamy voice. Seeing he was out numbered three to one Harry just smiled and shook his head.

"Get some sleep Harry," said Ron "It's my watch anyway." Nodding his head Harry stood and walked towards the tent. He clapped Ron on the shoulder and walked inside followed by Hermione and Luna.

The next morning the Four broke camp and headed deeper into the forest, making sure to erase any trace of their magical aura and scattered the fire pit. No Deatheater would know they had been here. Their trek took them deeper and deeper into the foreboding woods. Dark trees covered the sky letting no light get through, Harry felt like he was in the Forbidden Forest again. They walked for hours stopping only to eat and relieve them selves.

After hours of walking the stumbled upon something they hadn't imagined they'd find out in this dark forest. It was a glade, about fifty yards wide and in the middle was a house, a burnt out smoldering house. Corpses lay about the ground here and there.

"Check for survivors," ordered Harry and together he and his friends began searching the bodies. The  
>first one he came to was an elderly man, hit in the back as he'd tried to flee the fray; he was dead. He moved on to another corpse a man about the age of thirty, dead. It was then that Ron appeared at his side.<p>

"Harry, I've check three bodies already and one thing is the same in every one of them," he said "They're still warm, this didn't happen an hour ago." Harry nodded grimly, Ron was right, this was a resent attack.

"Harry!" came Hermione's voice thirty paces away. Harry and Ron ran to her were she was knelt in the snow, a small boy cradled in her lap.

"He's still breathing," she said. Harry snapped into action.

"Ron, Luna take the tent and make camp, eighty yards back the way we came, there's level enough ground to set up the tent. Hermione and I will do what we can here and then we'll bring him to the tent.

The others quickly carried out his orders as Harry knelt down next to Hermione passing a hand over the boy's forehead. He was alive, but they were against the clock.

Harry and Hermione worked quickly to stabilize him. They healed the gash in his arm and the broken leg. Once his heartbeat and breathing returned to normal, Harry picked up the unconscious boy and carried him towards the tent. Ron had a fire going when they got there and Luna was at the stove cooking. Harry laid the boy down on his bed and covered his shivering body with the blanket. They had him stabilized and all they could do now was wait.

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The hunter's pace was slow as he walked through the abandoned hallways of Number Twelve Grimbold place. One of Voldemort's men had told him this was the last place they'd seen Potter. He walked into one of the rooms. It was small, messy, and had the faint smell colon in the air. He inhaled deeply, committing the smell to memory. Finding nothing in the remaining rooms, he walked back down stairs and into the living room. He knelt to one knee and closely examined the rug, he found three areas of rug that where more worn than the surrounding areas. Pottter wasn't alone at least not when he was here, two others were with him and they had slept here, at least three times. He stood and looked around the room looking for anything he could find that would give him anymore clues to locating his prey. Finding nothing he turned and left the house.

He never liked cities, hated them in fact, he was out of place. He belonged in the woods and forests of the world. He'd spent his entire life there, living amongst the the wood life. He was a child of the Earth Mother, he didn't belong here. He quickly walked down the paved side walk, ignoring the looks of bewilderment he was receiving from passers by. He knew how he looked to them. Deer hide clothing, a cloak made from a dire wolf's pelt, bow and arrows, boar spear and bone handled knife. He was strange to them not of sound mind, but it didn't bother him. He wasn't from this place, he was a hunter, bred of the great huntsmen of the Omni. The forests and pine this boy was supposedly hiding in was his domain, his territory. The hunt was on.

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Professor Minerva McGonagall put her head in her hands as they rested on her desk. More orphans had arrived today. Victims of circumstance, Voldemort's cruelty knew no bounds. He and his followers killed mercilessly sparing no one, the children that were found by her Seekers, had been hidden before the attacks on their homes began. Her one comfort was that Potter and his group were still alive, she knew this was true. Pureblood extremists now controlled the Prophet and Voldemort controlled them. If Potter or any of the others were killed, it would be all over the news. Of that much she was sure.

She gazed up at the newly added panting of Albus Dumbledor. He was snoozing soundly, not a care in the world. She wasn't him, she knew she couldn't lead this war like he could have, they needed someone to lead, to inspire, her knowledge of such things ended in the class room. They needed Potter to return, he and he alone could take up the mantle of leadership that Dumbledor had left.

Knowing she was doing no good sitting in her office brooding the headmistress decided to visit the infirmary. St. Mungo's had been taken over by corrupt healers, who would pour through the files of the patents, checking blood statuses. Any 'undesirables' who were found would be turned over to Voldemort's Snatchers. Those still uncorrupted healers had fled to Hogwarts, the last bastion of freedom, and turned the hospital wing into a full blown infirmary.

She walked out of her office and down the hall, nothing but the echos of her own foot steps to keep her company. It felt odd not to be patrolling the halls at night watching for students who were out of bed. The halls of the old castle felt empty with out the buzz of learning to fill it, but instead the hanging gloom and a fear that they could be attacked at any given moment.

Her trek to the infirmary was a long one, she passed various aurors and older teens as they patrolled the halls looking for death eaters or anything else that may harm the refugees that dwelt in the walls of the castle. She entered the old double doors and was welcomed by the groans and shrieks of pain. Suffering was every where she looked. Her eyes fell on one boy in particular, not yet five years old he was standing between two bed one bearing a woman in her thirties the other a man roughly the same age. Both were dead. The boy was crying, tears for his loss and fear of those who took his parents. Terror of a confused future with no parents to guide him was evident on his face.

The old Professor searched to see if any healers had taken notice of him yet. Seeing they hadn't, she approached him gingerly, not wanting to frighten him. She laid her hand on his shoulder cause him to look up at her with red eyes and a tear streaked face.

"There now young man," she said "It's going to be alright." her words sounded hollow and unsure to her own ears. The boy shook violently, fighting a fresh wave of tears, a fight McGonagall could see he was quickly losing. Coming up with no other options the headmistress sank to her knees and enveloped the child in a hug. Normally she would never do such a thing, physical comfort wasn't something she had much value in, but this was a child. One who needed desperately to be shown that even in the dark time they now lived, there was still compassion in the world.

He clung to her with his small arms, sobs racking his frail body. She made gentle shushing noises stroking his dirty brown hair. What he needed was a bath and a good night's rest. She carefully disentangled herself from him, and took his hand leading him away from the bodies his his parents. They exited the infirmary and began walking towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"M-Michael," the little boy sniffled.

"Well Michael we're going to get you cleaned up and find you somewhere to sleep," she said in a soft voice. The boy nodded and rubbed his nose sniffing. Steps coming down the hall brought McGonagall's attention from Michael and she looked up to see Lavender Brown walking down the hall toward them.

"Lavender," said the Professor "Perfect timing, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure Professor," replied the young woman smiling.

"Can you take him the Gryffindor Tower, get him cleaned up, and find him some where to sleep?" requested McGonagall.

"Absolutely," said Lavender and without another word she scooped the little boy up and walked back up the hall.

McGonagall watched the seventeen year old girl carry the boy away, and could not help but let a small smile play on her lips. There truly was still a little compassion left in this dark world after all. She turned and walked back the way she came, her cloak billowing behind her.

And that as they say, is that. I know, I jumped around a lot and it's kinda short, but this chapter was focused on giving you guys a sense of what's going on the the wizarding world and the Chaos that has taken hold. Love it, hate it, review it.


	2. The Hunt

Sorry about the wait, I was underway and was unable to update until I got back. Thanks to all for the awesome reviews and patently waiting for this next chapter. So here it is:

Chapter 2:

The Hunt

They were hard to see, hard but they were there. Dirt had fallen into them, a deer had trampled them, and the leaves of the fall deciduous trees covered them. But the shallow foot prints were there. He gently ran his hands through them, uncovering the depressions in the ground. There were at least two people, the over lapping footsteps told him that much. However the dirt was too loose to capture the individual soles of the shoes his quarry wore. He suddenly looked into the canopy of the forest as a owl flew from his perch. He looked back down at the foot prints, judging from the condition of them, he was at least four days behind his quarry. It was late, time to make camp. He needed to rest and to think. He walked to the base of a large pine and slung his pack off his back. He dropped it at the base of the tree, and laid his boar spear. Pulling his bow from his back he ran into the forest.

It didn't take long for him to pick up the trail of a deer. A buck by the look of the hoof print. He wasn't far behind. He sprinted through the woods for five minute before coming to a dead stop. Standing in a glade sixty feet away, was the deer. He knelt to the ground, slowly drawing arrow from his quiver and set it to the bow string. He drew the arrow back, sighting along its length like he had a thousand times. There was a stillness about the world, his breathing stopped, the deer ceased it's grazing knowing something was amiss. Then he loosed the arrow, it let out a low buzzing before striking it's target. The deer leaped a single bound before falling to the earth. The hunter raced to it's side drawing his knife, he knew it was still alive and he wanted to end it's suffering as quickly as he could. He dropped down next to it.

"Earth mother take this creature into your care, allow him to run free and grant him life once again," he said and plunged his knife into its heart. The deer gasped out it last breath of life and fell still. The hunter began to skin and gut the animal, after shouldering the skin and burying the guts, he slung the deer over his shoulder to carry it back to camp. It was a short trip and soon he had a haunch roasting over a crackling fire while he wrapped the rest of the kill in leather after soaking it in salt to preserve it. While he waited for his meal to finish he removed his bedroll from his pack and spread it at the base of the tree. The last thing he had to do was set his alarms. It didn't take long to set them up, chimes mostly, to warn him if anyone or anything got too close to him at night. Letting out a content sigh, he pulled the haunch off the spite and tore a large bite off. Staring into the fire, he let his mind wonder.

It had been a long time since he'd been back in Britain. He'd spent the last two years on the plains of Africa, hunting African Manticores. Fearsome beasts, bearing the tail of a scorpion, the body of a lion and the face of a human. They were a worthy hunt.

**Flashback**

He knelt in the high grass, watching his prey, a full grown male Manitcore, as it feasted on a kill. He tightened his grip on a the spear in his hands, focusing on keeping his breathing low and steady he crept up on the beast. It stopped eating, looking up, the Hunter knelt even lower to the ground, the Manitcore must have felt his presence because it began to let out a low growl. The Hunter let out a shout and leaped from hiding, he landed on it's back. At fifteen feet tall and four feet wide, the beast was large enough for him to stand on both feet. He stabbed the beast between it shoulders, it bucked throwing him from it's back. He landed on his back and the beast spun around to face him. It's tail lashed and he rolled to his left avoiding the stinger. It plunged into the earth soaking the dirt with venom. It was a deadly poison, able to stop a human heart in less than a minute. The Maticore struck again, The hunter kicked his legs over his head and rolled to his feet, the stinger sank into the ground again and soaked it with venom. He yanked the off chain he had wrapped around his body and began to spin the blade on the end of it in a circle. He slung it at the Maticore's tail wrapping it around it and yanking. It pulled the Maticore off balance, in an attempt to free itself it lashed out at the hunter with a huge claw. He avoided it and yanked again. The beast was starting to get desperate it let out a roar of rage. It yanked it own tail back and the hunter used the leverage to launch himself over the monsters head and onto its back again.

He wrenched the spear free and plunged it into its neck. The Maticore bucked again, the hunter hung onto his spear as his feet came free. He came to a stop seated on it's neck, he pulled his knife from his sheath in the middle of his back and drove the blade into the beast jugular. Blood rushed from the wound and seared the grass. He yanked back his hand with a cry of pain, his hand was black. The manticore blood had acidic properties he knew that but hadn't expected it to be this strong. The Manticore let out a groan and fell to the ground acid blood pouring from it neck. The hunter was thrown from it's neck and landed ten feet away. He struggled to his knees and pulled a fleshy wrap from a pouch on his belt. It was made from the hide of a dragon, and had healing properties. He wrapped it around his injured hand and fastened it tight. Then he looked over at the dying Manticore, it was looking at him, hate evident in his eyes. They held each others gaze for a moment before the beast's eyes glazed over.

**End Flashback**

The hunter flexed his right hand as he remember the weeks of agony he went through, dragon skin healed, but it was a crude painful why to heal a wound. Violently pulling tissue together harshly knitting it together. His hand had been it so much pain. But the biggest to draw back to dragon skin bandages was the scars, they left horrible scars. The burn scar on the back of his hand was a testament to that. Once he'd finished eating he pulled his blankets over his legs and settled against the trunk of the tree to sleep.

The following morning he woke and quickly broke camp. He scattered the fire pit, broke down the remains of the of the wood he'd burned, and rolled his bed roll and put it back in his pack. Once he scattered all trace the he'd been there he shouldered his pack and resumed his hunt. He picked the trail of Potter again easily and sprinted after him. He had no doubt that the boy slept at night, and knowing him he believed he wasn't being followed. Looked for maybe, but he believed he wasn't being followed. So he tracked the boy all day kneeling only to make sure he was still on the trail.

He ran into a clearing and slowed to a stop. This was one of his camp sites. He saw the fire pit, the earth had been trampled, no way to tell by how many and he saw where the boy had pitched the tent. This site had been abandoned for three days, which meant he was catching up. He ran out of the clearing and deeper into the woods.

The sun was beginning to set when he heard the last thing he'd expected. The quickened scurrying of dozens of legs. Then a loud clicking sound, answered by another and then another, and another and another. He soon found himself surrounded by at least a dozen Acromantula. They weren't full grown adults yet, who's legspan would reach up to fifteen feet, these were Adolescents. The equivalent of a human teenager, they were about half the size of an adult and still unable to manage human speech. The only draw back was that the poison that was currently dripping from their pincers were just as deadly. A nerve toxin that would render the victim completely paralyzed but they would keep full feeling through out their body.

This was a hunting party, a small group that would go out into the woods and collect food for the rest of it's colony. Three or four spiders already bore large bundles of web on their backs, victims to return to the colony. He had no intention of being some spider meal.

Before they could attack he raced towards one and leaped into the air. It raised its head to follow his trajectory, just as he'd hoped and he came down with his spear piercing right between the two larger of its eight eyes. The rest scurried at him, moving surprisingly quickly for how large of animals they really were. Quicker the human eye can track, the hunter threw his dagger at another spider and it crashed to the forest floor. Two down, ten to go. He pulled his chain from around his body and began to twirl it around in wide sweeping arcs, keeping the large beasts at bay. Then he brought the blade attached to the end of the chain down on another spiders head impaling it and pinning the beast to the ground. He ripped the chain from the beast's head and sliced the blade through another of the spider's face. A third spider died when he found the tip of the blade through the right side of his face.

It was then that the hunter was forced on the defensive. A fourth spider attacked from behind, with no time to pull the blade free. The hunter dropped the chain and leaped away flipping into a back handspring. After coming to a stop he dropped to one knee, and pulled from his back his bow and three arrows. Holding the bow and two of the arrows in his left hand he drew the third arrow and sighted down the shaft. He loosed the arrow and it found berth in the left side of the spiders face. With out missing a step he drew back the second arrow and put it in a second spider's forehead, the third arrow ended up in the spider's larger right eye. The hunter quickly drew a fourth arrow from his quiver and set the arrow to the string. He scanned four remaining spiders staring down the shaft, the bowstring touching his lips. The spiders seemed to been clicking their pincers together, speaking to each other about there foe. They chose to attack all at once. He put his arrow in one of their face and and a second in another beast eye. He was half was through drawing a third arrow when the fourth spider was on top of him. He threw him self to the ground and put the arrow in the beasts mouth. It collapsed on top of him. He could only stare as the only remain spider bore down on him. He struggled reaching for an arrow. The monster closed the distance with astounding speed. He finally got the arrow free of his quiver and thrust it into the beast neck. As the monster fell one of it's pincers pierced his forearm. He cried in pain and wrenched his arm back. Without time or the muscle in the spider's jaw to inject the venom, it only numbed his arm.

After much struggling he finally freed himself from underneath the fallen spider. In no time he had his weapons gathered and stowed. However his arm was still numb and would be for several more hours. Before he continued on, he pulled a small vial out of a pouch in the small of his back and placed it to one the pincers of one of the fallen spiders. After he filled the vial to the top, he put it back in his pouch and moved to the three spiders who bore the bundles on their backs. He cut them open to find three deer, all heavily poisoned, the meat was no good. After standing and stretching out his sore limbs, the hunter continued down his previous path, trying to pick Potter trail back up. It took him about an hour but after patently scanning the forest floor, he finally found it.

After locating the trail, he decided he needed to rest for the night, the spider attack and the day on the hunt had taken a lot out of him. He was so far behind the boy that he had sprint to make up the ground, and it left him tired and muscle sore. Knowing he had to do the same thing tomorrow, he spread out his bed roll, made a small fire and started roasting more of the the deer from the night before.

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Hermione woke up from a restless night of sleep sore and exhausted. She hadn't slept well at all the last night, nightmares mostly. The little boy she'd rescued had yet to wake up and was currently curled up against her breast. She smiled down at the look of innocence that was on the child 's face, he had been in so much pain when they had found him. Now he had a look of mild serenity on his face. She wanted never wanted to see that look again. Heaving a sigh she climbed over and out of the bed and headed for the kitchen. On her way there she stuck her head out the flap of the tent and checked on Luna who was on watch. She was staring into the fire, probably looking for some imaginary creature or another. Smiling to herself and shaking her head, Hermione retreated back inside the tent and continued to the kitchen. She opened up the small fridge they had in the tent and pulled out the carton of eggs they had. They were running low on them and needed to pick up some more. She tossed them on the stove in a pan and pulled bacon out of the fridge and added it to the pan as well.

Twenty minutes later she had four large plates of eggs and bacon placed at the table. Ron smelt the food in his sleep and wondered into the kitchen. He was soon followed by Harry who'd only been asleep a few hours and they were all join by Luna shortly there after. Hermione took her plate and retreated into her and Luna's room where she sat down next to the boy to be there on the off chance he woke up. She ate slowly thinking about the last few days. They'd only moved once since finding the child and had been here for the last couple of days. Every day they listened to the small radio she had brought, listening to the wizarding world channels for any news of the outside world. Most of it was rubbish, Pureblood extremist ridiculous propaganda. Every once in awhile they would here a bit of truth, attacks on Deatheater homes and the like. Of course the stories were told in a way to victimize the Deatheaters and make those who attack them out to be horrible blood thirsty blood traitors or muggle borns. But every time they heard such a story Hermione couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto her face. Their friends were out there, still fighting the good fight even though they had disappeared without so much as a hint to where they were going.

But despite the bits of good new she got, Hermione couldn't help but feel a nervousness eat away at her. As if some horrible danger was out in the dark woods they were currently hiding in, and it seemed to get closer and closer each day. It was for that very reason that she was pushing them north, towards Hogwarts. They'd already found and destroyed the locket, and had no more leads as to where the rest of Voldemort's Horcruxs were hidden. They needed help, resources that they had no access to out here in the woods. However there pace was slow, the child hindered their ability to move greatly. Since he was still unconscious, he had to be carried, they couldn't apperate with the boy and Harry or Ron were the only ones who had the muscle stamina to carry him any real distance. So their traveling was limited, not to mention that it was started snowing recently and they had very little cold weather clothing. Fires kept them warm but also gave away their location. They were still two days walk from the sanctuary of the castle, it was not going to be easy.

She set aside her empty plate and crossed her leg on her bed resting her elbows on her legs and her chin on her hands. She knew that if they really push hard the next few days they would make it, and they had just enough food to make it there, barely. They gathered and snacked on berries and things as they walked but they were very filling. They were running low on things like meat, which they needed, it kept them the fullest the longest.

There were however dangers in going back to Hogwarts, with Harry returning it would be a higher target for Deatheater attacks. Putting the people dwelling there in a great amount of danger, Harry wouldn't like it. It was going to be very tough to convince him to return to the castle, but it was somewhere they needed to go, they needed to rest, recuperate, and most of all they needed help. This was turning into more than just a mission, it was turning into a war.

Deciding that they needed to get moving Hermione stood from her bed and walked out of her room. She found Harry and Ron in discussion.

"I just don't know Ron," said Harry "Four Horcrux's left and we've go no leads, no plan. I just don't know." Harry placed his forehead on his folded arm on the table, Ron patted his friend's back in an attempt to reassure him.

"Hey, mate it's going to be okay," said Ron "We're going to be just fine." It pleased Hermione to no end to see them interact this way. Though he wasn't the smartest person Hermione knew, Ron had a way of helping Harry calm down. She attested to the fact that he was Harry's first friend and knew him as well as Hermione did. Knowing this was the time, Hermione sat in the chair on the other side of Harry.

"Harry, it time we stopped trying to do this on our own." she said picking her word carefully. "We need to get back to Hogwarts." Harry instantly started to shake his head, but Hermione pressed on before he had a chance to interrupt. "Harry listen to me, we're running low on provisions, you said yourself we've got no leads, and we have that boy in there to think about." Harry stayed silent for a long time.

"Then you go," he finally said "Take the boy and you guys head for Hogwarts." Hermione knew she had just inadvertently given him the out he'd been looking for the entire time. An excuse to send them away, to get them away from him and, as he saw it, keep them out of harms way.

"No Harry, where one goes we all go," she said " Harry I didn't want to bring this but I think you should hear it. The shadow of a threat has been growing in my mind. Something is coming, I can feel it." Harry, Ron and Luna all looked at each other with matching looks of concern. Hermione's ability to sense danger was unrivaled, they had no doubt that something was coming after them.

"Alright Hermione," said Harry " You win, we head for Hogwarts." They stood as one and began to break camp. They took the tent down, scattered the fireplace and removed all magical trances. The last thing they did was latch the boy to Ron's back, so he could use his arms to run. They were in for a two long days, two very long, hard days.

They ran at a jog, Hermione leading, followed by Ron carrying the boy, then Luna and Harry bringing up the rear. Harry insisted in running in single file to hide there numbers. They agreed that they would not use the tent anymore, instead sleep outside eight hours a night, taking two hour watches a night. They ran all day stopping only to eat and rest. One such occasion, Harry took the boy from Ron and lashed him to this own back.

They'd ran all day and part of the night, but however they where forced to stop when the sun fell below the horizon and they could no longer see. They made a small fire and set out their bedrolls in a ring. Hermione cradled the boy against her and soon, drifted off to sleep.

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The hunter woke quickly, his senses alive and alert instantly. He looked around his surrounding, finding it void of threats. He climbed out of his bedroll, swiftly rolled it up, and stowed it. Then he broke his fire pit, and crushed the burnt wood. With his camp fully broke he stood and sprinted into the woods, he had made up a lot of ground the day following the spider attack and now he was a day behind at the most, if he continued at this pace, he would catch his prey tonight. After all this time on the trail, on the hunt, it was about to come to and end. This hunt hadn't lived up to the promises of the man who'd sent him so far, but it wasn't over yet. He hoped that the boy would put up a bit of a fight, if not this hunt would be very unsatisfying.

This boy wasn't a deer he was hunting for food, he was a trophy hunt if nothing else. He went on hunts like this for the challenge. If there was a creature out there who was said impossible to kill, that was the hunt he wanted. Now this boy had avoided every thing this dark lord had thrown at him, and he'd been forced to summon him. He ran through an abandoned camp ground, he didn't even stop, he was close, so close. He wasn't going to slow down now, he wanted to end this hunt and go after a prey worth while. He'd grown bored and would end this swiftly.

It was night time when he saw the light of a small fire, a lone figure sat next to it, no others where present, if he was accompanied, it mattered not the boy would be dead and he gone long before they would return. The fire light proved the figure to be a male, jet black hair and glasses. His target. Setting his arrow to the bowstring, he drew it back touching the string to his lips and waited. The boy stood and exposed his thigh, the hunter's target. The arrow flew with a low buzzing sound and punctured the youth's leg. He collapsed with a cry. The hunter raced through the under brush and exploded into the light. He pounced on the boy in no time and wrenched him to his back drawing his bone-handled knife. The hunter's breath caught in his throat when he saw the boy's face.

**Flashback**

He was dying, that much he knew. The blood was racing from his chest through the deep puncture wound the the dragon had left. What a fool he had been, thinking he could take on a Hungarian Horntail on his Oongata, his rite of passage. His vision began to blur, just as all went black he saw a tall shadow walking toward him. He heard a man speak and felt a like all the life was being squeezed out of him. A second later a woman's voice joined the man's before he faded.

He woke up days later, in a bed. A bandage had been wrapped around his head, there was no pain in his chest. He leaped from the bed and quickly dressed himself in his deer hide pants. A door opening behind him found him spinning quickly around and reaching for his bone handled dagger. Finding no blade there he tensed, ready to flee. A young woman with a swollen belly walked into the room carrying a tray, she was followed by a man with jet black hair and a kind face.

**End Flashback**

This boy had the same face as that man. Before he could fully process this turn of events, a pain exploded in the back of his head and he saw the forest floor racing to meet him.

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Hermione let out a shaky breath as she slowly lowered her wand. She had no idea who this attacker was but he had been kneeling over Harry with a knife in his hand. She sprinted to him and rolled the would-be killer off of Harry. An arrow had pierced his thigh, the steel head dripped blood forming a small pool in the grass. She sucked in a breath, luckily the arrow went through his thigh the broad head poking through.

"Harry," she said speaking gently "I have to remove the arrow, I'm going to break the head off and pull it back through." Harry's response was a nod and a grimace of pain. She broke off the head and ripped the wooden shaft out of the muscle. Harry gave a cry of pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," he said through clenched teeth, clutching at his leg. Hermione knitted the flesh in his leg with a spell and wiped off the blood. After his breathing became regular she helped him sit up so he could gather his bearings and get a good look at his attacker. The man was well built, covered in tattoos and scars. He had what Hermione could only describe as beautiful hair, hair of the blackest night, as if a drop of the night sky had fallen to earth and dyed his hair, all but a single lock which was white as falling snow. He wore black dyed deer hide pants and moccasins and a large fur cloak. On his back was a quiver of arrows and bow, in his belt across his back was sheath she guessed it was for the bone handled knife he still had clutched in his right hand. He also wore a pack with a large and very sharp spear tied to it.

Her look snapped back up to his face, though most of his body was covered in scars his face was unmarred, pure, whole and, Hermione had to admit, beautiful. It made her realize just how young the man really was, not much older than she was. Her attention was snapped back into reality when Ron and Luna came into the camp. They took in the sight around the camp, the broken shaft of the arrow laying next to Harry's leg and the unconscious man laying next to Hermione.

"Who is that?" asked Ron.

"I'm not sure," said Hermione "He was about to kill Harry when I got here."

"So you think he's a death eater?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione "I haven't had time to check to see if he has the dark mark." Ron yanked the man's arm out in the open and rolled it over looking at the forearm. The only thing that was there were his own tattoos, no dark mark.

"Nothing," said Ron "maybe it's not on his forearm." With that he began to search every single one of the man's tattoo's even when Hermione told him that there was no way that there would be a dark mark anywhere else on the man's body. But Ron would not be deterred and spent an hour scouring every tattoo on the man's torso and arms. Finally he gave up, this man was not a death eater.

"So what should we do with him?" asked Hermione "We can't just leave him here, he tracked us down in the dead of night, he'll do it again."

"So until we decide on what to do..." Luna said tapping the man on each of his eyelids.

"What did you do?" asked Harry.

"I put him in a state of dreamless sleep," replied Luna in her dreamy voice, "That way we don't need to worry about him waking up and killing Harry." Everyone looked at her strangely then looked back at the unconscious man as his grip on the blade in his hand lessened and the blade fell from his hand.

"Okay look," said Hermione "We have no idea who this guy is, obviously he was here to kill Harry and maybe the rest of us too. We need answers and we aren't going to get anywhere sitting here arguing over what to do, so let's take him to Hogwarts and have Professor McGonagall take a look at him. Maybe she can help. Harry you carry the boy, Ron you think you can carry the hunter?" Ron looked at the hunter for a while before turning to Hermione.

"Yeah, I can manage that," he said and hoisted the man onto his shoulder and began to walk back to the camp. He deposited him next to the fire and magically bound his arms to his back. Hermione, though she wasn't quite sure why, picked up the hunters knife and pack. She dropped the knife into the pack and slung it over her back and followed. Harry, after testing his injured leg, picked up the unconscious boy and carried him to the fire trailed by Luna who's face was downcast in thought. After a somber dinner, all but Hermione who's turn it was for watch, fell into fitful sleep.

She was freezing, her jacket provided very little guard against the cold. Harry, Ron, Luna and the boy were huddled together for warmth, they were shivering. Her concerned face turned to the hunter, he was the only person in the camp not shivering, despite being the least clothed, he seemed perfectly comfortable.

She added a log to the fire, hoping it would increase the warmth that flowed from the fire. It did almost nothing. Trying to take her mind off her shaking. She moved closer to the hunter. His sleeping face seemed serene, but deep lines of sadness were cut into his face. As if he'd carried a heavy burden for many years. Her attention was drawn to a thin piece of leather that hung around his neck. Attached to it was a long ivory claw. It was beautiful and as her hand moved to touch it the man's hand snatched her wrist. Her gaze shot up to his face, he was still asleep, such action meant one thing and one thing only. The claw was of great value to him. As soon as she removed her finger from the claw his grip relaxed. She drew her hand back and clasped it at her breast, his sudden movement had started her. She'd been on edge ever since the hunter had shot Harry, she'd seen the whole thing and had been unable to stop it. The Hunter had been fast, extremely fast. He'd hesitated for a split second, and that slight hesitation had been enough for her to stun him and save Harry. Closing her eyes to drive the memories of the cloaked hunter kneeling over Harry with his knife from her mind she moved away from him and sat next to the blazing fire.

The following morning they broke camp and headed north, if they pressed hard they would make it by the night. Stopping only to eat twice the drove for the castle with reckless abandon, exhausting themselves. But as the sun sank into the west, they found themselves looking down on the small hamlet of Hogsmede. Letting out sighs of relief, they all adjusted their loads and walked down into the valley. The streets were almost empty, a straggler here or there scurried from building to building. No one even stopped to goggle at the Chosen One. Hogsmede went by quickly and they were climbing the hill to the looming castle. Finally at the gate they were stopped by a middle aged man flanked by three other men and a woman.

"Hold up there," he said drawing his wand. The friends came to a halt and showed that they meant no harm by raising their hands. Ron only raising his right while the other supported his passenger. The man approached them wearily his companions pointing there wand at Harry and the others. As he came nearer his face lit up with recognition at the sight of Harry's face.

"Mr. Potter!" he said astonished "Minerva said you weren't coming."

"Yeah well we kind of need some help," he said though he didn't elaborate "and we could use a place to rest." The old man looked at the tired a haggard group seeing the weary looks on their faces.

"Yes, yes of course," said the man and turned to his companions "it's Harry Potter, help him and his companions." A tall man walked up to Ron and took the sleeping Hunter from him. Another man took the boy from Harry and the large group began the long trek across the ground. Fifteen minutes later they were climbing the stairs into the Great Hall.

"We have to see Professor McGonagall immediately," said Harry.

"Yes of course, she's in her office," said the man would lead them. He guided them to the head mistress's office. Ron took the Hunter from the man who'd carried him to the castle.

"It's about him," he explained and threw the hunter over his shoulder. The four friends took deep breaths and entered the office. McGonagall stood and gazed in wonder as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Luna entered the office with the Hunter. She rushed around her desk and looked over each of them closely, before asking for an explanation.

Hermione spent two hours telling their story, ending with the attack on Harry. It was only then that the Professor noticed the bi-color haired hunter laying on the floor.

"Who is he?" she asked.

"We were kind of hoping you could help us with that," said Hermione "he's covered in tattoos and I think they're tribal related. I was hoping you could help us see which tribe." McGonagall shook her head negatively.

"No, I know nothing about tribal tattoos," she explained. Everyone's head sank. "However I do know someone who's an expert on tribal tattoos." She walked to the door of her office and stuck her head out it. She had a whispered conversation with the person outside and then stepped back into her office. "He'll be here in a minute, mean while would you all like something to eat. You all look famished." They all nodded vigorously and she couldn't help but smile. She summoned a house elf and asked him to bring them sandwiches and pumpkin juice. Shortly after the house elf returned with their food, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," said McGonagall and in walked in none other than Rubis Hagrid.

"Hagid?" said Harry confused "What are you doing here?"

"Someone said there was something I was needed to see," said Hagrid

"Wait you're the tribal tattoo expert?" asked Ron.

"Well I do study them in my spare time," he said.

"Great, can you take a look at him?" asked Hermione motioning to the unconscious hunter.

"I suppose I could give it a try," he said kneeling down next to the man. After examining him for a few minutes he spoke again. "I don't recognize a single one," he said rolling the man onto his left shoulder "They're definitely tribal but, hang on a minute I do recognize one. No that can't be, it's not possible."

"What is it?" asked Hermione stepping forward.

"This tattoo on his right shoulder," explained Hagrid "But it's not possible, this is the symbol of the Omni tribe. But that tribe was wiped out seventeen years ago, by Voldemort. We need him awake, I wanna know the meaning of this." McGonagall dispelled Luna dreamless sleep spell.

"Take him to the infirmary," she said "we'll keep him restrained until we can sort this out." Hagrid picked the man up and carried him to the infirmary. McGonagall turn to the rest of them "And you should all get some rest. Your old dorms are still open." They all nodded and headed for their respected dorms.

00000

His head was foggy, and it hurt, a lot. His eyes fluttered open and he attempted to sit up. But found he couldn't move at all. After struggling for several minutes, he finally fell back into the bed he was on, frustrated. He stared at the stone ceiling for a while listening the screams of agony and pain that surrounded him. A woman's face suddenly obscured his view, she was beautiful but she was only in his line of sight for a brief moment before she looked away and spoke to someone.

"He's awake, he's awake," she said. Three other people filled his vision, someone grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him into a sitting position. He glanced at the four people that stood around him. Two males and two females. One of the males was the target, the other had red hair. The two female were on his right, one old, one young. He flexed his muscles trying in vain to break free of their magic.

"Struggling will do you little good," said his target.

"What have you done to me?" he demanded trying to break free again.

"We had to bind you for our own safety," said the young woman "you tried to kill Harry, frankly you scare us." There was fear in her voice, not that he cared, but it was there.

"I have no grudge against you, I will not harm you," he said they looked very unsure "You have my word as a huntsmen." Hermione looked at Hagrid worriedly. He nodded, of this man was of the fabled Omni tribe than he word never go back on his word as a huntsmen, it was their code of honor. Sighing and despite Harry disapproving look, she released the spell. The Hunter felt the bond on his wrists and legs release and swung his legs off the bed rubbing his wrists.

"What's your name?" asked the girl.

"Ghost," he said looking at her.

"Ghost?" she asked "That's a odd name." Ghost deadpanned at her. "But a good one. I'm Hermione, this is Professor McGonagall, that's Harry and the red-head is Ron."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," he said. The looked at him surprised. "What?"

"Well we didn't expect you to be so polite," said Ron bluntly.

"Why?" he demanded "because I'm not sophisticated like yourself? Where am I anyway?"

"You're at Hogwarts," said Hermione "Where do you come from?" Ghost's face fell slightly.

"I have no home," he said sadly "I once lived as a proud member of the Omni people. However when I was a boy, my village was destroyed . A wizard of great power decimated them. I was away, on my Oongata, my rite of passage into the tribe as a hunter. I returned to ruins, I was four." Hermione's voice caught in her throat, he'd been left to the mercies of the world since he was four. His sleeping face quickly rushed to the front of her mind. The lines of sadness cut deep into the skin.

"So you are one of the Omni," said Hagrid from the back ground

"Yes," replied Ghost "The Last of the Omni, but I swear on the graves of my family, I will have vengeance!" Hermione watched his cold blue eye flash with hatred.

"I know who destroyed your people Ghost," she said. Ghost's gaze flew to her in the blink of an eye. "His name is Voldemort, the one who had you hunt down Harry." Disgust flashed across the hunter's face. He'd been face to face with the man responsible for his people's destruction and had not known. He leaped from where he was sitting and made for the door.

"Wait," cried Harry "You can't just walk in there and kill him, we fight him as well in an attempt to save our world, will you join us? We could use your skills." Ghost stared at the floor in indecision for almost a full minute.

"Yes," he finally said "I will join you."

The ending is a little weak I know but I stared at it for three days and couldn't think if anythung better I'll work on it and if I get something better I'll change it.


End file.
